9/27/11

The editors of the Ampersand would like to issue a correction regarding last week’s issue. In an article about a fictional Fauver freshman, we used the name Matt Timmons ’15, which, we were surprised to learn, actually belongs to a current senior, Matt Timmons ’12. We have no evidence that Timmons ’12 “splooged on [his] floor,” as did the fictional Timmons, but we also have no evidence to the contrary.

Last week, WILD Wes members discovered an entrance to the Hidden World, the realm of the molemen. The find took all those present by surprise, including the moleman standing guard.

“It’s bad enough to be digging and suddenly come across a hairless, blind mole person,” recalled Harriet Moss ’14. “But when they start to secrete a protective mucus all over your shoes, it can be really tricky to maintain your composure.”

“Well, what else was I supposed to do?” said Dicke Driphole, the moleman in question. “Bitch was asking for it, hitting me on the head with the shovel like that.”

The WILD Wes members were initially wary as more molemen emerged from the tunnel, shielding their eyes from the harsh sunlight. Public Safety was initially fearful that conflict would ensue between the surface dwellers and those who lurk below, and remained wary, circling the opening on their Segways, ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice. But it soon became clear that they meant no harm.

“There was good reason to be careful, as there’s ample evidence of such things occurring,” claimed professor of anthropology Alan Faulkner. “As recently as 1983, uncovering passages to the World Below has resulted in deadly fighting. Granted, that incident was in Thailand and rather than molemen, they uncovered overgrown meat-weasels, but you can never be too careful in situations like this.”

Rather than laying waste to the community of polyamorous hippies, the molemen have only gone so far as to occupy the WestCo café, citing the “comforting moistness and general cavernous feel of the space.”

“The Dominion of the Molemen is a paternalistic hegemony,” claims Esther Greaseskin, one of the group of molemen occupying the WestCo café. “It’s right there in the name. We’re looking to collaborate with your department of gender studies to come up with a more gender neutral name for our species. Not moleperson, because that just sounds stupid, but maybe something more along the lines of ‘moledividual’.”

“I’ll talk with them about it, but not in my office,” said professor of gender studies Abigail Rawlins. “They are slimy as shit, and I don’t want that all over my carpet.”

Members of WILD Wes, the student group that emerged last year to promote sustainable landscape design, have secured from the administration a $50,000 grant to redesign Occupy Wall Street’s temporary occupation of Foss Hill.

“Our long-term goal is to convert these three tents into sustainable, organic groundcover without getting too much topsoil on Anwar,” says WILD Wes cofounder Sim Salver ’12. “We figure this whole shebang will be more ecologically sound if we just keep dumping permaculture on everyone.”
Members of WILD Wes expressed concern regarding Occupy Wall Street’s “self-destructive fondness for wholly unsustainable conversation topics.”

“If these guys say one more thing about the corporate personhood currency phallus, I am going to explode,” Marge Helvetica ’14 warned.

Last weekend, WILD Wes representatives trailed Occupy Wall Street members to their New York protest site to prevent the group from spreading beech bark disease in Manhattan’s financial district. “We even convinced some group members to help us dig swales on Fulton Street,” Salver reported. “Those things really help funnel New York’s perennial biochar sheet-mulch rejuvenation.”

WILD Wes hopes to seek further assistance from Occupy Wall Street in reaching its environmental aims.

“We thought it would be tough to convert these protesters to our cause, but it was super easy,” one WILD Wes member assures. “These dudes will shovel anything if you tell them it’s the best way to fight the corporate fascist plutocracy cookie monster.”

The twelve long-haired, fair-trade-coffee-drinking friends who constituted the core of WildWes moved into a house on campus to greenify the WestCo courtyard. It sounded innocent enough. But when the rest of the Wesleyan community returned to campus this fall, the leaders of WildWes were irreversibly, markedly changed.

Gone were the “chill vibes,” the sandals, and the passionate environmentalist rhetoric that once distinguished WildWes leaders from their peers. The leaders of WildWes were now stressing out about course registration, rocking boat shoes, and explaining to a shocked campus their new plan for the courtyard: to turn the space into a miniature lacrosse field. The presidents of Westco were too stunned to offer immediate comment.

“I just really wish I hadn’t wasted my time on all those studio art and creative writing classes,” WildWes leader Ike Fug ’12 said between appointments at the Career Resource Center. “There’s no way I can get all the credits I need at this point to get into a top tier business school.”

When asked about his environmentalist ambitions, Fug shrugged and said, “Honestly, coal and oil provide so many jobs that are crucial to the American economy. We need to focus on saving Main Street right now, not Wall Street.” Fug continued to digress, intoning various unrelated political clichés.

Theories as to what instigated this dramatic change abound: some believe the WildWes students fell under the sway of a particularly right-wing MoCon gremlin. Others speculate that they unearthed and smoked a stash that had been buried in the courtyard for far too long. Still others blame interactions with radioactive grasshoppers. The actual events remain a mystery.

As we begin our third week of school, Usdan empties, flowers wilt, and toilets clog as everyone feels things once new and exciting lose their gild and fall into daily routine. Everyone, that is, except freshman Jessica Witnit, who recently discovered that for the past two weeks she has been attending Wesleyan University, not Wellesley College.

Disoriented by Hurricane Irene, Witnit arrived on campus and mistakenly registered as Jennifer Nitwit ’15. She proceeded to move into and share Nitwit’s room, the crowdedness of which both ascribed to high enrollment. Without space for another bed, Witnit and Nitwit had no choice but to spoon every night.

“We became really close,” Nitwit mumbled blushingly.

Dean Goel Narrett finally cleared up the problem after a meeting with the two freshmen.

“Subsisting on only one WesID, Jessica and Jennifer came in to meet with me when they ran out of meal swipes on Thursday,” disclosed a somber Garrett. “It’s very unfortunate, but we’re actually quite used to this sort of mix-up, so I was not unprepared.”

With Nitwit’s discovery has come a swell of students realizing that they aren’t at Wesleyan College, Wilbrahem Wesleyan Academy, or other schools that share Wesleyan’s nomenclature, including a fifth year Senior who just figured out that he was not in Ohio.

As Nitwit prepares to start the school year afresh, she does have some reservations.

“While I am excited to have my own identity again,” Nitwit said, “I’ve kind of gotten used to having a bed buddy.”